Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
The Searchers,
John Foxx,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Index,
John Cale,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Marshall Jefferson,
David Axelrod,
The Cowsills,
Malaria!,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mojo Men,
Rod Modell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Associates,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Kaleidoscope,
Fort Wilson Riot,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Dave Gahan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dark Day,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Althea and Donna,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Grauzone,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fela Kuti,
Guru Guru,
Skarface,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare,
Underground Resistance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-102,
the Fania All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
Quadrant,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
D'Angelo,
Hasil Adkins,
Flash Fearless,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.